DECEPTION
by KnockturnSeller
Summary: While the Golden Trio were in the woods, other battles were going on around them. This is a look at some that fought to give support to the Chosen One.
1. Chapter 1

DECEPTION By KnockturnSeller

While the Golden Three were in the woods, other battles were going on around them. This is a look at some that fought to give support to the Chosen One.

Head cannon fires. When the smoke clears a disclaimer banner floats to the ground. "I Don't Own Harry Potter. But I Do Play In The Forbidden Forest."

CHAPTER ONE: BEGINNINGS

"I'm not in this nutter group of yours, this Order of the Phoenix. Just why have you taken me off protection duty? And by just what authority do you have the nerve to do so?" Robert Lynch was angry, glaring at Kingsley Shacklebolt.

Kingsley calmly gazed back. "This is more important than guard duty,  
vital though it is to maintain the security of all those innocent people you're helping keep safe," he said. "As to my authority, why, I have none whatsoever." He saw the look of incredulity of Lynch's face.

Blinking a couple times, Lynch frowned and clenched his fists. "I see.  
You just thought of some task and decided to take me from my duties? My wife and two kids are at risk because I defied the Deatheaters when they came calling, me and the others. What do you think is more important to me than my own family?"

"The future of the Wizarding world," Kingsley said in an easy tone.

Lynch held back his anger as he scrutinized the man sitting across the desk from him. He gave a snort and said, "This had better not be another of your schemes to storm the Ministry. Seems to me the last time you did that,  
only Dumbledore's appearance saved you, saved the whole lot of you he did."

Kingsley didn't respond to the jibe. It was true that Dumbledore had saved them all after the Hogwarts students had gotten into the Prophecy storeroom then out to the Atrium, though it was the Order that had saved the students before that. Dumbledore had sealed their safety, nearly at the cost of his life in battling Voldemort to save Harry.

"There is some truth to that, Robert," he said. "And, yes, I suppose you could say this is one of my schemes, though the overall idea is to help Harry Potter do what he's destined to do. There are very few people that know the prophecy concerning the Potters and I'm not sure I know the whole thing myself, but I do have a fairly good guess as to what it is. More important to me, and to you, is we've figured out what Harry is trying to do.  
Have you ever heard of a Horcrux?"

Lynch's eyes went wide for several seconds then got a look of disgust on his face. "You mean He Who Must Not Be Named dabbled in ... in that dark a magic?" He sat quietly for a few more moments then nodded and muttered. "Yes, he would go that far. Murder is right up his alley, especially if it preserved his own life."

Kingsley nodded. "His name is Voldemort, and yes, you understand the implications. We believe that is exactly what has happened and we think Harry is looking for them. Not it', but them. What we have to do is give him the time to find them and figure out how to destroy them. I don't even know how he can do that, he's only seventeen and I'm worried he won't be up to the task. Worse, we have information that Voldemort has sent out nearly every witch and wizard he has to comb the countryside for Harry. He's been living rough, Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley along with him. What we have to do is keep him out of their reach. That's where you come in. You'll be leading a deception campaign to throw all possible confusion their way, make camps to send the Snatchers around the countryside, the further afield the better."

Lynch took a deep breath and let it out in a stuttering sigh. "That is going to be very chancy, very dangerous. I don't know if I'm ready to undertake this one for you. If anyone's caught, it's too much to think about.  
That psychopath Lestrange he has with him loves to torture. I don't want to think of anyone ending up like the Longbottoms. That's worse than dying."

Kingsley nodded again. "Yes, very dangerous. The people you choose can only know the minimum amount of information to complete their tasks.  
The Muggles have a history of forming underground cells against occupation armies and for revolutions. I propose we use that as a model. Each team member only knows the two others in his cell, the leader only one senior commander. It won't help them if they're captured but it'll keep the rest of the people involved safe. That's a lot to ask of those you'll be leading in this.  
Are you comfortable with that?"

Another long breath and deep sigh that ended in a nodding, Lynch's eyes looking off to a blank wall as he considered the risks and responsibilities of his position. "Can't say I'm comfortable, not in the least,  
but you tell me this is important. You've never led me wrong and you've never lied, at least not that I could find out. You have a plan then?"

"Yes, more or less," Kingsley said. "The basics and a lot of information,  
but I'll need your help fleshing it out. I have some tea brewing in the kitchen. Would you care for a cup and we can discuss plans."

An hour later they were still talking. Kingsley said, "So as I see it, we have to convince them they have valid information though it'll all be false. If we can find where Potter and company are camping we need to guard them,  
draw off the Snatchers and make them believe they know where they are and that will never be anywhere close. Keep them guessing and guessing wrong. We know after the Ministry fell, they were warned off ..."

"Oddly enough, by a Lynx Patronus as I heard it. Know anything about that?" Lynch asked with a grin.

"Seems to me, I have a Lynx Patronus," Kingsley said with an equal grin. "After the wedding we lost track of them. We didn't know anything until Ted Tonks reported in. He thought he felt a Repello charm in the forest while he was running with a runaway student and a couple goblins. That information was a week old by the time we got it but it was enough. We have an idea where the general area they frequent is so it'd would be advantageous if we can set a few fake camps to throw them off. Do you think Wales would be a effective place to start?"

Lynch nodded in agreement, saying, "Good idea. I have a few people in Llanelli. Do you have any articles that we can set? Personal stuff?"

"Not really all that much," Kingsley said. "We got to Grimauld Place and gathered as much as we could, the Death Eaters attacked and we barely got out of there. But yes, we have some things that might be useful. I'll get them to you. When you make a camp send word and I can get word leaked to the Snatchers and send them that way. Say a week's occupation? Do a good trample, trails to get water, food, firewood and such. What do you think?"

Lynch nodded. "Should be adequate. I'll set it up so they'll hightail out of there next Thursday, just before sunset. That should keep the opposition occupied, being dark and all. If they bring in the usual gang, they'll run around trampling everything into the dirt. It'll look good, a warm fire and all that, but there won't be a clue where they might have gone."

A frown crossed Kingsley's face. "Is there a way we can leave a map with a few camping spots? Would that send them off in the wrong direction?"

"I just don't know," Lynch said. "We're trying to capitalize on their stupidity and gullibility. As long as it's the second string it'll fool em. If they bring in someone with their wits about them, they might, no, they will winkle it out. They might be in league with Vol ... He Who Must Not Be Named, you got me using his name now. Anyway, they're not idiots, some of them aren't easily fooled. If they bollix up, I hear the penalty is severe. Cruciatis and worse."

"Tough on them," Kingsley commented.

"Pretty cold attitude," Lynch said. "They're still wizards and witches."

"On the wrong side. They made their choice," he said. "They're welcome to come over to our side, some have after seeing what goes on around Voldemort. You also have to keep in mind the ones that stay are the ones ready and willing to murder anyone not with them. Don't put too much concern for their safety into your planning. The more they lose the better."

Lynch shook his head back and forth. "I'm not sure I can be that cold about it."

"Your wife. Half blood, isn't she?" Kingsley asked. "How long do you think she'll be safe? And your children? Keep that image in your head. We may have to be as vicious and willing to kill as they are. We aren't fighting for power over others, but so others can be free. That's the difference, what we're fighting for. No matter how things go, keep that thought in mind first and foremost. What we are fighting for."

Lynch was frowning at first, now he was absently nodding in agreement. "Yes, sometimes I forget that. I'll pass that idea on to my teams, even if it means using dark magic we are fighting for our freedom and our family's lives. They'll know why they are doing what we've asked of them, I'll make sure of that."

"Right. Now, you have a good idea of the teams you'll be sending out amongst the names I've given you, yes?" Kingsley asked.

Once more, Lynch nodded, this time with a grave expression. "I do.  
Let's go over them and see if you have any input."

It was six days later and Lynch was stirring the coals of well used campfire. "That about does it, Thompson. Don't bother using water, leave it warm and cozy like for them to find."

"Then what?" he asked.

"I don't know," Lynch said in his best down-country accent. "I get me orders same as you. This is what we's supposed to do so we do it. I want to be in a nice inn with a tankard of beer in front of a warm fire tonight. Let's get this done and get warm. Bloody hell, what they think we are? I'm frozen to me toes."

They trudged out of the woods, Lynch making sure they left a good trail, along with dropping an old hairbrush, then apparated to the nearby town for the promised drink. "You order for us, I got the first round. Got to take care of business in the loo. Back in a mo."

Thompson sauntered toward the bar, Lynch moved around the corner toward the loo until he couldn't be seen and slipped into a closet. His wand raised up and he said the words, sending his patronus off to Kingsley. The Snatchers would know about the camp and raid it, finding what they were supposed to find and report back. By tomorrow the rest of the Snatchers would have the information. Job done. Seeds of confusion sewn.

He used the loo and returned, Thompson, sitting in a chair close to the fire, looked around and held up a tankard, nodding toward another chair.  
Lynch took it and sat, putting his booted feet up on a stool to warm them by the flames. "Ah, warmth. Bloody tired of huddling around that charmed fire in a bottle. No way to keep warm, that. Maybe we can spend a few days here before we have to go out again. I'm tired of sleeping on a stiff cot. Give me a good feather bed, I say, and I'll sleep the rest of the week in peace."

"You got that right," Thompson agreed. "Good beer this place has.  
How'd you know about it?"

"Been round these parts before," Lynch said. "Just glad I don't have to pay for the rooms. At least the bosses help out there while we're on a job.  
Wish they'd send us to Spain or someplace warm like that. But for now, we done our part. I'll get the report out tomorrow after I've had a hot bath and good night's sleep in a comfortable bed."

Lynch raised his tankard. "To good beer, a warm fire and comfortable beds."

Thompson raised his tankard and said, "To good beer and a warm fire.  
Drink and be merry I says. To the good life." He took a deep and long drink,  
wiped his mouth on his sleeve and said, "Ahhh. Good grog, that."

Lynch smiled, looking to be in total agreement. Inside, he thought of the Snatchers that were, by now, tramping around in the cold woods in the dark and rain, messing the evidence up they'd so carefully planted. Another bit of deception. A small grin came to his face and he raised his tankard once more. "Confusion to our enemies."

"Confusion," Thompson said and took another good swig. "Just glad to be out of the cold. We're doing good, Robert. Doing good."

"If the bosses say we are," Lynch said, "I'd have to agree. Now, I'm off to a hot bath and a good night's sleep. See you at breakfast. Just watch out for folks asking round about things. Don't get drunk and start talking or we'll both end up as guests of You Know Who. Finish your beer and go to bed.  
See you in the morning."

He left for his bath and a good long soak, thinking of how nice it would be to get under real sheets and warm blankets. As he got ready to get in bed, a group of rough voices came from the first floor so he cracked his door open to listen.

"I'm tellin' yer, they were there," one loud voice said.

"Yeah, an' I spoze you be wantin' to call the Dark Lord, do yer? You know what happened to Dozier when he thought he found one of 'em."

"Sure, and he's been a git all his life. No loss, that."

"I'd think it be a loss if I was under his eye; you, though, I could stand to see you do a bit a squirmin' under Madame Bella's wand. She wants to be his favorite, got plans she does."

"Don' yer be sayin' nuttin' she might hear. I be as loyal as yer be."

"Jus' sayin' we better be careful what we say. Just report back what we done seen in the woods, let others take the blame what if it weren't what The Dark Lord wanted ter hear."

"Alrigh', alrigh'. Just what we been seein' then. We be afraid our own shadows we keep this up."

"Least wise, we still got shadows and not be inside that bloody big snake a his."

There was a long pause and the first voice went on. "Jus' what we seen. No more. Gotcha."

Lynch smiled to himself as he closed and touched the doorknob with his wand. "Yes, you be afraid of him. Fear makes you weak, makes you make mistakes. Yes. Be afraid you fools. Going to enjoy putting this in my report." A word and the door snicked locked and Lynch went to his bed and got under the covers, relishing the softness of the mattress after days on a cot.

In the morning he knocked on Thompson's door and got a series of grunts and groans when he told him to get dressed for breakfast. He ordered up a plate of eggs and corned beef, sipping a second cup of tea when Thompson showed up looking worse for the wear and sat down, Lynch signaling the waiter for what he'd ordered his partner.

"Sleep good?" he asked with a grin.

"Least wise it was warm." Thompson looked in rough shape.

Lynch smiled. "I'm gonna talk to the barkeep, try to sell him some new dishes. The bosses said to look like a tradesman so I might as well keep up appearances. Finish your breakfast, no hair of the dog this morning, and we'll head back to London."

An hour later Lynch finally gave up the game of trying to sell a complete set of tankards and dishes to an already well equipped inn,  
gathered Thompson and took a floo to Llangynin and headed out into the Muggle town. After walking for half an hour through the shopping district,  
Lynch stopped and asked, "You see anyone following us? You been looking in the windows and all like I taught you?"

"Well, most the time," Thompson said, his eyes half lidded and looking to be hung over still. "Ain't seen nobody though."

Lynch frowned and said, "I'm depending on you and you're depending on me see, so we both have to keep our eyes wide open when we're on the job. Now, there's a good alehouse I know about down the end of this street.  
We can have a pint and head out from there. A witch owns the place and serves Muggles as well as magical folk but do try to keep your eyes open and don't upset the Muggles."

A tall pint and they flooed to Swansea, Thompson taking his leave and heading home, Lynch moving into the town and down toward the water. He wandered idly past the docks and down the beach in the chill wind until he was outside the University, stopping to look out over the sea and over his shoulder all along the way. No one could possibly be watching, not at least where he would be visible so he turned and trotted up to Mumbles Road to the tree line just up from the beach, peeking out in both directions before hustling across the street and into the school grounds.

Shacklebolt stepped out from a tree with a grin. "Use a cup of hot tea?" he asked in a pleasant voice. The two men grinned at each other and headed for the student cafe.

Head cannon goes off again with another banner in the air. "Please Review" 


	2. Chapter 2

DECEPTION By KnockturnSeller

While the Golden Trio were in the woods, other battles were going on around them. This is a look at some that fought to give support to the Chosen One.

Head cannon fires. When the smoke clears a disclaimer banner floats to the ground. "I Don't Own Harry Potter. But I Do Play In The Forbidden Forest."

CHAPTER TWO: TAKING OVER

"Bloody cold wind, Kingsley," Lynch said, taking a long sip to heat his belly. "Not a hint of anyone looking for me, though we do have an order for a couple dozen tankards and pitchers for the inn we stayed at. I think he gave in and bought a few just to get rid of me. Brilliant idea, sales."

"One of your better ones, you hopeless braggart," Kingsley said with a chuckle. "Now, how's things?"

Lynch grinned. "You should see them running all over the place,  
clueless and gormless. Total gits when it comes to anything resembling intelligence. Deathly afraid of making a mistake too"

Kingsley frowned and let his eyes meet Lynch's. "They captured a student and a goblin the other day, Robert. Tonks was killed."

"Ted?" Lynch blurted out. "No, not Ted. We went to school together,  
played Quidditch against each other my first year on the team. Tough Beater he was. Took a few to the body from him, I did. He's really gone?"

Kingsley could only nod his head. "Yes, quite a loss for his family. I think he chose not to be captured alive. He thought up this whole operation you've been working on, now I need a replacement."

Lynch stared at the large man sitting at the table, calmly drinking his tea like nothing was wrong in the world.

"Oh no, you can't be serious," Lynch muttered, looking into his mug.

"Tonks thought he found Potter's camp so he set theirs close by,"  
Kingsley said. "He made it look like Potter had been there and that attracted a band of Snatchers on the lookout. They got away but they were followed,  
surrounded, we think, and they fought furiously, least that's what some of our people said when they arrived this morning. 'Magic was fairly dripping from the trees,' they said. Burn marks all over. We think they took that student, a Dean Thomas, with them. One goblin traveling with them got away we think. Best we know, prisoners are all going to Malfoy Manor and kept in the dungeons."

Lynch looked up and growled, "That filthy, high-born git. I'd like to pay him back for all he's done some day."

"If we win this war, I'm sure that'll be on a lot of people's agenda,"  
Kingsley said. "Voldemort ..."

Lynch cringed at the name and Kingsley frowned then continued,  
"Voldemort is using his lesser minions to torture those taken for information,  
subverting those that might have some conscience left while doing his bidding, or sometimes just for a bit of fun. Best we can tell, no one knows anything. Tonks knew the risk he was taking."

Lynch stared back into his mug. "So, if I take over Ted's position, you expect me to die if I'm found out?"

Kingsley grunted. "I most certainly hope not. I've been doing a bit of reading, not much else to do when hiding out. There's a jinx you can use on yourself, a type of Obliviation charm that should toss your memory of the last week in the rubbish by replacing it with a new one. Gets a bit tricky,  
that, making sure it covers what it's supposed to. They can't get what you can't remember, even if they use Ligilimens there's nothing to see but an innocent series of events of little importance."

"You've used it?" Lynch asked pointedly.

"Volunteers. It's quite safe when done properly," Kingsley said. "It's not perfect but it'll prevent you from giving up anything of much use at least long enough for us to cover our tracks. If you take Tonks' place, I'll make sure you know how to do it."

He cooly gazed at Lynch and asked, "You willing to take up the slack?  
There's no one better for the job. You're a good trainer, have excellent field skills, know the overall plan and most everyone involved, though not all their names, which may be a blessing in disguise. I'd like you to fill Ted's position.  
You can do it and we need you. Potter needs enough time to do whatever he has to do to fulfill the prophecy. We've been doing a very good job of covering for him thanks to your mission planning, now I'm asking for more."

Lynch took a good swig of his now warm tea to give him a chance to think it over. "My wife and family, they can be guarded?"

"Absolutely," Kingsley said. "I'd think a rather extended vacation, say the south of France, would be in order. Voldemort has been seen as consolidating his hold in the UK, doesn't trust anyone and keeps everything tight to his chest. So far very few sorties out of country have taken place.  
We believe he will continue in that vein, especially when he cannot find Potter, his worst fear I believe. As long as Potter and his comrades are loose in the country we think he'll keep his eyes here until he has total control. Of course, we don't want that to happen, but as long as we keep him guessing he'll keep going on like he has so far. He's looking inward, not toward the future and not towards Europe. Your family will be safe. Frankly, my wife could use the company.

"You see how much I trust our evaluation of the way the war is going?"  
Kingsley asked. "My family was evacuated two months ago. I know they're safe where they are and that lets me do my job without undue concern. Your wife and children can join them. You willing to take the job on?"

Robert Lynch, reluctant field agent for the Order was about to become one of the leaders in this madness, but the world was already mad so one more step didn't seem all that crazy. "This memory charm thing, is it reversible?"

"You won't need to reverse it," Kingsley said. "It's just a false memory we'll help you plant, then, if you need it, you bring it up and replace a week's worth of living with it."

Lynch pursed his lips and nodded his head and sat back in his chair with a resigned look. "Okay. I'm yours. I'll send an owl to the wife right away, tell her to pack up."

Kingsley chuckled. "Already sent one, Robert," and sat back with a smug look.

Lynch sat up with a harsh frown. "Why you dirty, rotten, scheming ..."

Kingsley laughed out loud. "I know my people, Robert. Now, shall we discuss future plans?"

A couple hours later Robert Lynch, newly minted head of the Underground Deception unit of the Order of the Phoenix, flooed with Kingsley Shacklebolt, currently head of The Order, back to London, then on to his home.

He'd been told he had two hours to pack and leave. By then the Snatchers or other Voldemort spies would have gotten wind of a Pure Blood family packing. Getting caught with bags and brooms was not a good idea for a Pure Blood family as it clearly meant they were not joining the Deatheaters.  
The retaliation, at the very best, was a family being held hostage to ensure compliance. The worst, Lynch shied away from the horror of the thought.

"Once you get off the ground, you go as fast as you can," he told his children. "Don't stop for anything. No matter what happens, you keep moving until you get to Aunt Alice's. She'll get you on from there."

He hugged his young son, fighting back his tears joining with his little boy's, his older daughter bravely keeping up appearances. "I'll see you just as soon as I can, Stephen. I promise. You be good and help your mother and sister. You're the man of the house while I'm away, you know."

He turned and pulled his daughter into a tight hug, stroking her long hair. "You're growing into such a lovely young woman, Lizzie," he said,  
gazing into her eyes. "Take care of your mother and brother and don't accept any marriage proposals from the French boys you might meet."

"Daddy!" Lizzie squealed, blushing red.

Lynch grinned and he gave her another hug. "You take good care of your mother for me, okay. That way I won't have to worry."

With the blush fading, she said, "Promise, Daddy. You be careful."

"Careful?" Lynch asked, trying to look innocent.

Lizzie leaned in close to whisper, "I know what you're doing is dangerous so be careful. I won't tell Stephen, though."

He nodded gravely to his daughter and turned to his wife. He gave her a long kiss and ran his fingers through her hair, not daring to say a word for fear of breaking down in front of the children.

His wife met his gaze and nodded, her words not making it to her lips.  
She turned to gather up her children and hustled them onto their brooms.

"But mummy," Stephen said. "You said I couldn't ride a broom really high and never at night."

"Special case, Stephen," she told her son. "Stay very close and hang on tight. We'll be there before you know it."

Lynch watched his family disappear into the inky darkness, a tear running down his cheek now that his children couldn't see. He turned,  
walked a few steps toward his home, took a long look to remember everything, hoping it wasn't the last look, turned again and apparated to his new office.

Trees dripped rain from their branches in the yard, he tried to give a grin toward the others there but wasn't able to muster much in the way of confidence or ease of mind.

Kingsley stepped away from the covered doorway and said, "Welcome to our new headquarters. Cleaner than the Leaky Cauldron, but I must admit, it's a bit damper and the ale isn't as good."

He waved Lynch forward and ducked his head to get in the small door of the thatched roof cottage. "Built well before our time," he said. "Not many people at two meter's height a hundred years ago, but it's warm and dry,  
pretty homey actually on the inside."

They stepped into the living room with a cheery fire in the large iron stove. Lynch sat on a chair and said, "At least it's not a tent in the woods.  
What's the next phase of the operation?"

Kingsley nodded and said, "Right to business, yes? Good. We're pretty sure the three are hiding out in the Forest of Dean. Only the people in this room know that so we should give thought to where we do our next deception, how many camps and all that. I've set up some preliminary goals but we need to think of what we're going to do if and when we fail or if someone gets nabbed in the act. We want to keep You Know Who ..."

Lynch let out a chuckle and Shacklebolt shot him a reproving look.  
"He's tabooed his name. One mention and it's worse than underage magic with the Trace. We already lost a few people by saying his name. We all have to be careful now. I don't know if this will all come to a head in the next few months or the next few years, if ever for that matter, so we have to keep caution in front of us at all times. I've said it before so I'll say it again: the entire Wizarding world depends on us in this room."

He looked around at the half dozen men and women present. "Not just here. If he wins, Europe will be next then the rest of the world. That might seem impossible or to be in some far flung future but don't count on it. If we fail Potter, we fail the world and we fail our families. We'll be condemned to a life on the run, if you're lucky enough to still be running after this whole thing is over."

Another look around the room and he saw everyone paying close attention. He pursed his lips in concentration then said, "Sorry. I do get carried away sometimes, but this is how I feel and what I think about every minute of every day. Once every so often I have to let it off my chest."

There were nods of approval and respect through the gathered leaders and Kingsley gave a tiny bow of his head in mutual respect to his people. "Be that as it may, we need to concentrate on the next few months. If we set camps that seem to lead in a particular direction or favor certain types of areas, it may give us a little more breathing room. I've also been thinking about how they might be feeding themselves. Clever though they are, none of them are country born, they won't be very good at foraging or hunting."

Kingsley stopped and sniggered to himself. "Sorry. I was thinking of Miss Granger or Potter trying to skin and eat a squirrel. Weasley, he'd be able to but I'm trying to imagine Potter doing it."

He gave a smile and everyone in the room smiled along with him.  
"Which brings up something we've been, well, working on shall we say. I have several people out wandering around the smaller villages that might be close enough for them to visit. We've gotten word of a few outlying farms where we think they may have visited. What really convinced us was farmers finding coins in the hen houses and once in a laundry basket. As you can imagine thieves don't pay, but Miss Granger and Potter, they'd do something like that. This has given us an idea where they are right now. So I'm asking you to do some camping around the Border Country."

The people in the room nodded their heads and gave Kingsley sharp looks. None of them voiced what they were thinking but sending them north meant Potter was south.

Kingsley returned their knowing looks and went on. "There's something else we need consider: what to do if they are captured. It can happen, most likely it will at some time or another. What can we do about it?  
Do you have the right people to form a rescue party? It'll mean invading a stronghold, probably Grimauld Place or Malfoy Manor, the latter is more likely. Any of your people have intimate knowledge of the Malfoy's place?"

Lynch said, "How about Arthur Weasley? Didn't he raid it a few times a couple years ago?"

Kingsley frowned and looked about to speak, then said, "He's keeping a low profile but I'll ask around. Maybe someone that was with him could be of help. But can we find the right people and get them training for a rescue party?"

A woman nodded and said, "I know a few Aurors that went into hiding when the Ministry was taken over. I'll put out some feelers and see what I can come up with."

Kingsley nodded in her direction. "You want the task of training them?"

"Oh no, not me," she said. "But ... well, I better leave the name out of this discussion for now, but there is someone that could. I'll let you know."

Kingsley twitched a trace of a smile. Yes, she understood the necessity for secrecy. "I'll leave that up to you. See me after the meeting and I'll give you what I can to help you out."

He looked around once more. "Anything else anyone has? Please, feel free to speak your mind."

One of the men said, "I think I can speak for all of us in saying we respect everything you stand for and I want to thank you for all you're doing. Just give us a direction and we'll get things done."

All around the room nodded, looking at Shacklebolt. He gave them a grin and said, "I'll give each of you individual instructions. But I also want to say how proud I am to be involved with such a group of people willing to put it on the line for all of us. So, my thanks to each and every one of you and your teams.

"Now, I'll meet with each of you and we'll get things going," he said and flicked a finger in Lynch's direction. Lynch got up and followed Kingsley to an adjoining room, reached into his pocket and took out a piece of parchment.

"I figure team one here, on Thursday" and he pointed to the map,  
"then team two here early next week. The rest are outlined with approximate locations and days. You can get the word to those that need to know then?"

Kingsley looked at the map then at Lynch. "Yes, well thought out.  
That should keep them running around. Make it seem Potter is only staying a few days at each location. Yes indeed, this is good work. I want to send you to Stroud on the Welsh border. A couple reports of money being left at farms comes from around there. If you find them, keep an eye on them and send me word. The Floo Network is being monitored by that toad Umbridge, when she isn't persecuting Muggle-borns in that office she has. The worst sort, she is, but she can be a serious threat. Send a patronus if you can't find another way.

"I can provide you with some Muggle Police identification," Kingsley said. "Poke around a little. I don't need to tell you to keep a low profile but do be careful. Here's the locations of the farms in question. I'll leave that to you. Send in Argyle next if you would. Keep your head down and your eyes open."

Lynch smiled and returned, "Always do. Catch up with you later then."  
He left and had a cup of tea with the others left in the living room, headed out into the rain and apparated to an inn near Stonehouse. He listened to the conversations until he heard farmers' voices and went over to their table.  
He showed them his identification as an Inspector and asked about thefts,  
saying he was looking into gangs that might be holing up in the area.

A few hours and several inns later he hit the jackpot, a farmer laughing to his friends how he found a dozen eggs missing with a few pounds left in the straw that very morning.

"Yea, I be tellin' yer," the farmer was saying. "Funniest thing was, I went into the woods to see if'n I could see what kind of nutcases would be camping in the winter. Prolly some college kids on a dare but what they'd be doin' when classes are in session beats the bejeebers outta me."

Lynch listened closely from the next table, sipping his ale slowly to make it last and keep his head clear.

"Anyways, I went out inna woods out where I set rabbit snares, you know, so the Misses can make up a good stew, following the tracks in the mud and I just got the feelin' I should be headed home," the farmer said.  
"So, I checked me traps and got a good brace of coneys for dinner. Never did see hide nor hair those college kids. I saw a few more tracks on the trail but then they just stopped. Not a trace of 'em after that so's I headed on home. Funny business, you ask me, the footprints stoppin' in a muddy part of the trail, then nuttin'. Nuttin' at all. Not a trace of 'em after that. "

Lynch listened a little more but the other farmers at the table didn't add anything to the conversation. He waited for the man to step out to his battered farm lorry, put a Confundus on him and rode out to his farm,  
heading out into the woods when he got there with the farmer in tow. When they got to the place where the tracks stopped he gave a touch more Confundus and the farmer turned around and headed back up the trail,  
leaving Lynch to ponder the situation.

He headed out into the rain and made a wide circle for an hour then a wider one until he felt just the faintest trace of his mind telling him to turn in a new direction. He turned the opposite way and the urge to go somewhere else got stronger. There was the merest whiff of smoke in the air so he circled until he had the location figured out, turned away and headed toward a nearby town. He was soaking by the time he got there and used a drying charm just before entering an inn in Lydney, ordering up a mug of tea and dinner to warm up.

That night he pored over his map of the area and sent out his patronus to the cottage with a coded message to be passed on, gave thought to all he'd seen and done to make sure he'd kept his head down and reported everything he'd seen before slipping into a warm bed for the night. His dreams woke him in the middle of the night, the face of Bellatrix hovering over him with a maniacal grin, her wand raised. It took a long while to get back to sleep after that.

In the morning his new partner showed up at the inn to eat breakfast with him and they conversed in soft tones and quiet voices before heading out into the rain. They walked down a deserted, wet sidewalk, looking in windows at the goods for sale and studying the reflections to make sure they were alone, took a turn around a corner and disapparated from anyone's view. A couple hours later they were inside a tent with warm mugs of tea in their hands, talking about all the things going on with Lynch pretending,  
once again, to be poorly informed and going wherever the bosses sent him and doing the things they told him to do.

"No, I don't know why or anything else," he told his companion. "I got told to be at that inn for breakfast and I'd be meeting with my partner for the day. That be you, now, innit?"

"But surely you got some idea," the other man said.

Lynch snorted with derision. "Doesn't know, doesn't want to know.  
Read that somewhere but it fits. My family bein' safe's the most important thing to me. Mebbe after this job I can go visit them. A good long night being warm next to Margaret would be a nice change. You?"

The other man gave a short laugh. "Aye, and you know that's right.  
Maybe I get to go for a visit too, a nice long visit. Maybe find a warm, sunny Spanish beach and get my bones warmed up, that'd be nice for once instead of this bleedin' rain every day."

In the morning Lynch set out a dirty sock, making sure it seemed to have just fallen out of a hastily packed bag, made a last look around and the two of them disapparated to their next day's camp.

Three weeks later Lynch was at yet another homely inn when he spotted a glow in the dark window, set his fork down and headed out into the chill wind with a pack of cigarettes in his hand for the other patrons to see. In the alley behind the dumspter he found the patronus, looked around and waited a moment. Kingsley's voice came from the glowing Lynx,  
"Potter's been taken by Snatchers. Believed to be at Malfoy Manor. Return to the cottage soonest."

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	3. Chapter 3

DECEPTION By KnockturnSeller

While the Golden Trio were in the woods, other battles were going on around them. This is a look at some that fought to give support to the Chosen One.

Head cannon fires. When the smoke clears a disclaimer banner floats to the ground. "I Don't Own Harry Potter. But I Do Play In The Forbidden Forest."

CHAPTER THREE: PLANS AND WORDS

"Holy ...," he started to say as the patronus faded from sight. He hurried back into the inn, tried to finish his dinner like he was in no great hurry, carefully scanning the other people for any hints of subterfuge and went to his room. A minute later he had his bag in his hand and was in the stairwell when he disapparated.

The cottage was abuzz with a dozen people talking at once with too many individuals to make out a clear message. Kingsley stepped into the cottage and silent faces turned to their leader with questions on everyone's lips. With half lidded eyes and a haggard face, he looked totally exhausted.

He held up his hand to forestall any speaking and said, "We got word a few hours ago that Potter, Granger and the Weasley boy were all captured by Snatchers yesterday. They were taken to Malfoy Manor as expected but further information says they've escaped to a safe house. Also, He Who Must Not Be Named was summoned. The death toll among the Deatheaters was horrendous. Right now we're trying to get more information and trying to figure out what Potter's next move is going to be. For now, we're standing down everything that might put our people at risk. There's blankets in the closet. I suggest you get some sleep so when we know more, we can all think with a clear head."

Murmuring started up as everyone tried to get their heads around this news and Kingsley signaled Lynch, both of them heading into the kitchen.  
Kingsley poured tea and sat, half hunched down in his chair.

"Robert," he said, "I'd like to be able to stay up and brief you on everything we know, but, frankly, I'm dead tired and I'm sure I'll miss something." He sipped his tea and sat back in the chair. "Wake me in four hours, sooner if a message comes in. Are you rested enough to stand night watch?"

"Yes sir," Lynch replied without thinking, looking at the haggard face in front of him. "I was eating when your Lynx came through."

"Good thing," Kingsley said in a weary voice. "You might not get a chance for breakfast in the morning. Have Charles take the watch when you feel yourself needing some sleep. I'll need you fresh in the morning."

As Kingsley got up, Lynch said, "If I might make a suggestion," and Kingsley turned to look at him, "get as much sleep as you can. You look like you need it, and before you say something brave and valiant, you look like you haven't slept in days. How long has it been since you got more than catnaps?"

Kingsley slumped a little and that was saying something in his present condition. "I get by," he said.

"Get some sleep, sir," Lynch said. "We'll wake you when you're needed. Too many people are depending on you having a clear head. You need this. You never know when you'll get another chance for a good sleep."

With a long sigh, Kingsley nodded and headed toward his bed, Lynch leaving him and going back out into the living room. Everyone was still talking so he joined in a few discussions then suggested everyone get some rest. In the morning they'd all need to start planning the next actions with whatever information they had by then. People wandered off to couches and chairs, only a few people remaining and talking quietly before they wandered off to find some place to sleep.

He stayed up for a few hours but then his eyes started closing on their own, no longer responding to shakes of his head to clear his tired brain. He woke his relief and took over the chair they'd been in, asleep in minutes.

"Wake up," someone was saying, shaking his shoulder.

"Whaaa," he muttered and tried to get his eyes to focus on the face in front of him.

"A message has come in," the man said. "Kellen's waking Kingsley up now."

The word message' brought Lynch to full wakefulness, though he had to rub his eyes clear. When he'd done that he peered at the misty apparition of a terrier calmly sitting on its haunches in a chair on the other side of the room. Kingsley opened his door and the form of the dog jumped off the chair and trotted across the room a meter off the floor and went through the door.  
Everyone turned to look at the door, a couple people murmuring to each other in quiet, soft tones, wondering what it could mean getting a message that only Kingsley could hear.

He came out of the room looking satisfied, a trace of a smile on his face. "Potter and his friends are safe. They brought another student with them, Luna Lovegood, her father published the Quibbler."

A few snickers went around the room.

Kingsley's eyebrows knitted for a moment. "Just remember, before Luna was taken as hostage he was the only one telling people the truth, so give him a little slack. Anyway, Potter is safe and he had Ollivander with him along with a house elf from Hogwarts. The elf died. What that means for us is we need to continue the deception, lead them back into the woods so Potter can ... do what he's doing. Second team outside of Glascow as planned, third team wait a few days then do the Glencow plan. Fourth, you got Balintore starting next Friday."

He walked to the table and poured a cup pf tea, taking a long, careful sip. "You're welcome to stay and discuss current events," Kingsley said, "or head on out to home or wherever. I'm going to be here for lunch anyway so if anyone has information on how things are going for them they'd like to trade with the group, now's the time." He flicked his gaze around to every person in the room to acknowledge them and got nods back.

Mugs were filled and they sat down, crumpets and scones brought out from the kitchen as they started sharing tales of things they'd heard; how their camps went, the reaction they'd seen afterward, guesses on what was happening in the rest of the world. Lynch listened to everyone's tales attentively without hearing anything unusual, that is until Alicia Spinnet, the youngest in the room, spoke up.

"We were looking around the Forest of Dean," she was saying, "when we found a spot that looked like it had been used for camping. The funny thing was there was this big rock in the trees, not that rocks are unusual,  
but this one was blackened on top. When I looked closer I found a few splinters of glass and I swear the rock looked like it had been melted or something on top. I reported it, of course, but I was wondering if anyone else has seen anything like that."

Murmurs went around the room then quieted as Kingsley asked, "Did it feel like magic had been used?"

Alicia nodded. "Oh yes. I felt it but I have to say it didn't feel ... right somehow. Like something dark or evil had happened. I'm not all that sure I know what it means, just that it felt ... wrong. We looked around but that was the only unusual thing we found. If it was a camp, it had been weeks since it had been used and the snow made it hard to find anything else."

Kingsley gazed at Alicia and said, "Thanks for that. I don't know what it means but I'll ask around. Maybe someone knows something. Now,  
anything else?"

Lynch gazed hard at Kingsley and got the tiniest shake of his head. No one else had much to add, just the normal, everyday things along with a few bits they'd heard around inns and alehouses. They finished their tea and sat around trading tales of how and where they'd made camp when Kingsley signaled Lynch and got up.

A minute later he followed and found Kingsley in the kitchen. "What did you think of Alicia's story?" he asked.

Kingsley had a serious look when he said, "You remember what we talked about some time ago? The reading I've been able to do suggests horcruxes can be destroyed. Several years ago I think Mr. Potter destroyed one at Hogwarts. With a tooth from a Basilisk, if the rumors that were floating around at the time are true.

"If we assume Potter found another horcrux, perhaps he saved the tooth and used it, perhaps he destroyed it in the forest. If it was one of You Know Who's horcruxes, I'd think there would be a lot of dark power imbued within it. When destroyed it might just be enough to melt solid rock. It seems my guesses were accurate, though I never dreamed Harry would be able to get it done."

Kingsley took a deep breath and laid a cool gaze on Lynch. "You also remember what we discussed when you took Tonks' position?" and Lynch nodded soberly. "Good. You know I've been getting information I'm sure you've wondered about. I have a contact within the Deatheaters right up at the top. He told me about the Prophecy and he told me Dumbledore had found a horcrux, that Dumbledore was already dying when he was killed at Hogwarts. What you'd never guess, and I hope no one else shall either, is the horcrux was what was killing Dumbledore. Apparently he thought he could control it, control the power it contained but he couldn't fight the curses laid on it.

"Now what is interesting me is the implications that has," Shacklebolt said. "If Dumbledore knew he was dying, which he did, it might explain what happened up on the Astronomy Tower that night. He was far too powerful a wizard to be taken by anyone so I believe he gave himself up. Moreover, my thinking leads me to some interesting conclusions. That he might have planned it, that he knew what he had to do to save others, that he sacrificed himself, not just surrendered to his killer, but that he planned it all out."

Lynch was breathless with ideas roiling around his head in boils of curiosity and excitement, the implications going way beyond anything he'd thought of before this moment in time. If Dumbledore had planned his death, what had he told Potter? What those three kids were doing suddenly became the most important thing in the wizarding world. The need to keep up the ruse seemed to blaze in his mind. He'd give his life to protect the secret of why the efforts this group was undertaking was the most important thing he could ever do in his life.

Kingsley watched Lynch, hoping he'd figure it out, deciding to add a little push to the process. "I told you of the horcrux at Hogwarts and the one I suspect was destroyed in the Forest of Dean. That's two. Dumbledore's,  
that's three. How many are there? We don't know and neither does my source. The old books describe the process of creation and their use, terrible though it is and the price exacted from the creator, but it doesn't touch on how many can be created and that's what worries me more than anything."

Lynch got his breathing under control and tried to think, to put everything into perspective. "So, you're saying the whole world rests on Harry's shoulders? Does he have any idea how important he is? I know he's been told he's the Chosen One, but a seventeen year old boy, how can he possibly understand how important what he is doing, what we suspect he is doing, how valuable he is? The thought of him in Malfoy Manor, nearly captured by ... it makes my blood run cold."

Shacklebolt met Lynch's eyes. "Now you know what it's like to be in my place. If anything should happen to me, you'll have to take over. I wanted you to know my thoughts so you'll know what to do."

Lynch got a thought in his head and he started to chuckle. "How do you sleep at night with all this in your head?" he asked.

Shacklebolt slowly grinned. "Welcome to the Order of the Phoenix."

That relieved the tension in the air and Lynch laughed out loud,  
anxiety mixing with the stress and the dark humor they'd just shared brought tears to his eyes. He wiped them and looked at his boss with a very sober gaze. "I'm your man. My life is yours."

"Not mine," Kingsley said. "You belong to that seventeen year old boy out there somewhere, looking for things beyond his ability to handle but doing it just the same. That's our destiny as Harry has his. Hope you get a good sleep tonight."

Both of them grinned and laughed quietly, sharing a moment of responsibility and fear along with the touch of gallows humor. They both knew failure meant death, not just to themselves but to everyone around them, everyone in the wizarding world that stood for right over power. Even if they lived they'd be little more than slaves to the evil scheming to take over. Both of them knew and feared the possibilities opening in front of them now, both of them determined to win out over the madness of Voldemort.

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	4. Chapter 4

DECEPTION By KnockturnSeller

While the Golden Trio were in the woods, other battles were going on around them. This is a look at some that fought to give support to the Chosen One.

Head cannon fires. When the smoke clears a disclaimer banner floats to the ground. "I Don't Own Harry Potter. But I Do Play In The Forbidden Forest."

CHAPTER FOUR: WAR

Lynch was tired when he came in off yet another camping trip, this one the worst he'd had, drenched and freezing for two days in the storm they'd endured. He met up with Shacklebolt in Eaton, eating a bowl of stew and wishing he'd found a pub that had good ale instead of this Muggle place full of men in suits eating hurriedly on their lunch break.

He shook Kingsley's hand and ordered a bowl for his boss. "It's not bad, really, a bit bland for my taste, but it's hot and fills the belly."

Kingsley looked at the bowl the waitress set in front of him, took a few spoonfuls and smiled. "Quite tasty, Robert. It could use a bit of pepper I suppose. Now, how's things going for you?"

"As expected for the most part," Lynch answered. "Well, not exactly.  
You see the last camp I had set up, just before we were to leave a band of Snatchers came running out of the forest right at us. McBurney got one of them before he went down, I stunned another but a third attacked. The idiot used a killing curse but it was weak and I avoided it. I sent a killing curse at him and watched it hit him dead center. He went down like a rag doll. I saw the light leave his eyes as he died. Then it was time to deal with the rest so I went over to the one I'd stunned, thinking of my wife and kids staying safe.

"I was looking in his eyes, him laid out on the ground, pointed my wand and obliviated him. I knew I was destroying him when I did it, but I couldn't leave him. He'd've killed the both of us without a thought so he deserved what he got. Still, I felt guilty inside for having done it. I killed a man and left another as good as dead. I've never done that and it hurts."

Kingsley could only reach out and touch hands, nothing could take away the pain inside of killing another person, no matter the reason.

Kingsley gazed at Lynch and said, "If it didn't hurt to do what you had to do, I'd be worried about you. A caring person feels pain when they have to kill, and you had to. Only brutes that have lost their humanity like to kill.  
It might not be much consolation, but it's all I have."

Lynch looked back with the beginning of a tear in one eye. "Back to the real work then. It's getting to be a routine and that alone worries me.  
We'll start making mistakes, cutting corners here and there and I worry all the time of someone slipping up and getting caught. Argyle and Scott barely got away from some roaming Snatchers just last week. I told them to lay low for awhile, take a rest, maybe even head to the Continent to see their families. They'll report back Sunday or Monday at the latest."

Kingsley Shacklebolt took another spoonful of his stew. "Robert, this isn't for general knowledge, but things are coming to a head. The Prophet won't be reporting this but Gringotts was robbed."

When Lynch looked up from his bowl with wide eyes he went on to say, "And no, it wasn't You Know Who like the rumors I've heard. One of the goblins I'm particularly friendly with was there in the main hall. He swears he saw Potter, Granger and Weasley riding that ancient dragon they have protecting the lower levels with the high security vaults, he said they flew right through the entrance and out of Diagon Alley. Then there were reports from the Muggle press laughingly reporting the sighting of a dragon flying over London. Made the people saying they saw it look like drunken fools or a college prank. They seemed to have had a good laugh over it."

He ate a few spoonfuls more of his stew. "There was something I was told when they escaped from the Malfoy's that didn't make sense at the time but looking back, I think something very valuable, possibly a horcrux, was hidden in Gringotts and I think they stole it. Also, right after that happened,  
I was told things at Malfoy Manor got really tense. I think You know Who is going to make a move to take over everything very soon. There was a general call put out earlier today to put trusted Deatheaters in charge of the Snatcher teams from now on and I'm told they were ordered to keep them under strict control. Nobody's to leave their holeups. A few Wizarding villages are being occupied in force, Hogsmeade is being overrun by them."

Lynch managed to move his spoon away from his bowl as he stared at Kingsley. "Hogsmeade? It's worse than the rabble he's had there for the last year? You think he's going to take over Hogwarts?" Lynch asked. "He already has Snape running the place with an iron fist. I don't understand that kind of move."

"I know," Kingsley admitted. "It's just that putting all the information into one bag makes me think he's going to do just that. There's a few things I haven't told you because I didn't think they related but now I have to admit I was wrong. Grindelwald was found dead in his cell about the same time Potter was taken to Malfoy Manor. Also, Gregorovitch, the European wandmaker, was murdered at his home some time ago. There is a rumor that one of them actually had the Elder Wand. If they did or knew where it was and You Know Who killed them, he would have it now. Then, Potter and his group robbed Gringotts; they wouldn't have taken that kind of risk without a very good reason and you can guess what I think they were going after. If he's really destroyed horcruxes that will set You Know Who off in a rage. He'll be killing anyone he suspects and he suspects everyone.

"Now the scary part. My source says he thinks the Elder Wand is in You Know Who's possession. I have to say, right now, I'm terrified at what it all means. If he has the Elder Wand, how is anyone going to resist him? How can Potter possibly fulfill the Prophecy against the power of the Death Stick itself?"

He lowered his voice and said, "Frankly Robert, I don't think we are going to win this one."

Lynch could only stare, the spoon and stew long forgotten. "I don't suppose suggesting you go in hiding is going to change your mind on anything?" Lynch asked. Kingsley gave him a sad, forlorn look like an animal in a trap watching the hunter approach with a club in hand.

Robert Lynch let out a long sigh. "You know, for a while I thought we were going to survive this. But if we're going to die, let's take as many of those rotten Deatheaters with us as we can."

"I hope it won't come to that," Kingsley said. "I thought he wanted to take over slowly and with little more effort than putting his demands out piecemeal to allow us to accept and become accustomed to being ruled by him. You and I, of course, we won't accept and we won't be spared for an instant. None of the Order will be. If we don't run, and I'm not going to, then we'll have to fight to the death. I just hope the wife and kids can get far enough away to escape him for as long as they can."

"Have to say I feel the same way," Lynch said. A deep breath and he said, "Is there anything we can do now that'll help Potter? You've said many times how everything hangs on him. What can we do?"

Kingsley ran his hand across his head. "I'm not sure. It might be he's going after Potter with total focus. He might be going to Hogwarts himself to ensure all the students there are willing to do his bidding, though I don't understand the move, why he'd bother. And as long as we're talking about Hogwarts, there's been a group of students that have been giving Snape a lot of trouble. They're hiding out in the castle somewhere, some room I hear about but it doesn't make sense to me. And if it's just a room, it can't be very big, certainly not big enough to hide the number of students that have gone missing. A lot of them were at the Ministry on the Prophecy raid. It's like they have found some way to hide from all detection. Maybe they're hiding out in that Chamber of Secrets Potter found. I just don't have enough information on them, only that I believe they are still alive and not under Snape's control."

"Shouldn't we try to get them out?" Lynch asked.

Kingsley shook his head. "We don't know where they are, we don't know how many, we don't know much at all. But I'll try to get hold of someone I know in Hogsmeade. He might be able to give us something to go on. But Robert, if this all blows up, if You Know Who goes totally mental, we simply don't have enough battle trained people to go after those students."

Kingsley gave a defeated look and said, "We can only pray for them,  
we can't help them."

Lynch looked out the window to see the sun dip below the long line of clouds that had been raining all day. It lit up the horizon in gold, then red before slipping below the next line of clouds. Looking at it sent a fleeting wave of peace through him, then the dread came back and he looked at Shacklebolt.

"I think I understand you, though I wish it wasn't what I think it is,"  
Lynch said. "I can organize the teams into some semblance of a fighting force, I know a few that have been itching for an open fight, but after that,  
I'm at a loss for plans. It would be loads easier if we could tell them we were in for a fight and when and where."

Kingsley nodded, not saying a word for a long time. "I'll talk to Ab.  
Maybe he knows something. In the meantime, do what you can to organize a fighting force, tell them what we're up against and what the future holds if we don't go on the offensive. I believe we've seen the last of the easy work of leading Snatchers around the countryside. From now on, we'll attack."

Lynch gazed at his boss. "I'll get as many as I can to the cottage. We can start training first thing in the morning."

"Robert, start training tonight," Kingsley said. "Talking to you has cleared my head. I have this feeling inside it's going to be full out war very,  
very soon. Don't waste time. Do it and do it tonight. I'll pay your bill. You go and get everyone together as fast as possible. I'll meet you at the cottage as soon as I can."

"Very well, sir," Lynch said, holding out a hand that trembled a little.  
"I'll see you tonight. God's speed."

"And to you," Kingsley said.

Lynch glanced around the cottage with the group in front of him arced around the warming stove. "Right then," he said. "Who has experience in battle? I don't mean a bit of dueling training, but life and death."

Three slowly raised their hands. "Good. You're now in charge of training," Lynch told the group. "It is thought we may be engaged with Deatheaters in the very near future, train as if it's tomorrow. Do not labor under the illusion that any mercy will be shown. If you see any of the Deatheater forces, they will kill you. If they don't, they'll be killed when they get back to whatever rock they crawl under. That means forbidden curses are going to be coming your way so make sure you're ready. You are to kill first, I'll answer any questions for you later. Is there any doubt of what I am saying?"

A soft murmur came from half the group, many of the other half getting worried expressions, looking around them then setting their faces in rigid masks. They'd do as he said. "Good. If you're going to use a killing curse, you have to mean it heart and soul. They are going to use it on you without concern or even a second thought. You are fighting for your lives,  
more, you are fighting for your children's lives. Mean it, then do it and live so that others may live. If we go to open war as our leaders expect to happen, we'll be fighting for the future of the world and our children. Trainers,  
take over."

He turned toward the kitchen to remove himself, as much to hide his own worries as to cover his fear of that immediate future. He nibbled a biscuit as he went over names, assigning teams with strengths and weaknesses in personnel, hoping one could help cover the latter if Kingsley was right. He'd barely finished when a pop in the air made him jump. A man he'd worked with in the borderlands practically crashed through the cottage door, breathing hard and looking flushed.

"Kingsley," he wheezed and took several rapid breaths.

'Oh no, not Shacklebolt,' Lynch thought to himself.

"Kingsley says ... everyone's to apparate ... immediately," the man gasped out. "I'm to guide the first few then they return and bring everyone else. He says it's war. I'm Miles Staunton." The young man heaved his chest in breathing, finally getting enough air and looking a lot more comfortable.

"I'm almost ready," he said, panting. "Just give me a couple minutes. I had to run pretty hard getting away from the Deatheaters in Hogsmeade.  
They were using Avada Kedavra and blasting house walls all around me.  
They've gone mad there, they have."

Three joined hands with the guide and popped out in a dark back room of some kind, a large, bearded man standing there looking them over.

"Staunton," the man said, "the Weasleys just got here and a bunch of others already went through the portrait. You good to go to London now?"

"Sure, Ab, ready to go," the young man said with a grin.

"Kingsley tell you where to go?" the older man asked and got a nodding head in answer. "Well, get to it. If we're going to make a suicidal stand, let's get this party on the move."

A crack and Staunton was gone. Lynch looked over the older man for a moment then asked, "You're Aberforth, aren't you; I can see it in your eyes."

"Aye, it's always the eyes," Aberforth said. "Kingsley says there's going to be a battle at Hogwarts, the enemy is gathering outside the walls and he expects them to attack as soon as they've got enough numbers. I'd expect them to be overwhelming numbers too. That Potter fellow came through here a few hours ago then Kingsley came along so I sent him through."

Lynch fought to keep himself calm as Aberforth went on. "I sent out some people. They say the woods are full of Deatheaters. It's like all of them are out there and they aren't there to throw us a birthday party. When you come back, be ready to fight for your lives."

The bearded man stared at Lynch and said, "Aren't there people you should be apparating here? Like I'm a goin' to be the only fool in this madness." He tossed his hands in the air.

Aberforth glared at the others in the room. "Well? Still waitin' for that invitation? The one with the pretty little card and a piece of candy? Get movin'. It's war now."

Lynch calmed himself to concentrate, imagined the cottage in his mind and repeated the words he'd been taught when he was seventeen:  
Destination, determination, deliberation. A turn and he was in the cottage with people looking at him with all kinds of questions on their faces.

"Let's move into the kitchen," he told them. A moment after they entered the other room a crack came from the living room and they were joined by another team leader.

"Okay, here is what I know," Lych said. "We are going to a place in Hogsmeade. I'm sure some of you have wondered where all our efforts have been leading and you're about to find out. It's going to be open warfare."

Everyone looked at him with widening eyes and he went on,  
"Shacklebolt's already there, I think he's inside Hogwarts with Potter.  
Deatheaters are gathering in superior numbers outside the walls. I can imagine it's going to be a battle to the death. They win and we're all slaves or we win and we live in freedom. This is it, what we've been working so hard for for the last year, some of you longer than that.

"If anyone can't see themselves ready to fight to the death, now's the time to say so," Lynch said and looked around.

One person held up her hand. "My husband was killed six months ago.  
I'm all my kids have left."

"Very good," Lynch said. "I desperately need someone to apparate to London and pick up some experienced Aurors. I'll give you your assignment in a few minutes."

He looked around and asked, "Any others?" People glanced nervously around at their comrades, a few murmurs sounding amongst them, then there was a palpable silence. All eyes were on him.  
"I salute your courage," Lynch told the group. "We'll apparate in groups of four. As soon as you get there we'll be moving out. This is it. This is where it's going to happen, where we make a future for us and our families. See you all there."

As soon as his group of three got to Hogsmeade they were hustled out of the room and down a long tunnel, coming out in a room full of people. The mood struck him immediately as tense but ready; some were twirling wands in their hands but everyone in the room was looking at him. They were all so young.

"The situation on the outside is the Deatheaters are gathering what seems to be their entire force in the forest. We can expect to be attacked any moment now," he said. "Anyone have any information on what's going on inside the castle?"

A young man stepped forward. "I'm Neville Longbottom, sir," he said.  
"Harry came through here then went out looking for something but he didn't say what it was or where it was. We're all ready to fight."

Lynch heard the words about Harry and understood immediately what he had to be doing, though not a clue came as to how to help him. "Okay then, the best thing we can do is help Harry do what he has to do. It's what we've been doing all Winter, giving him time to do what he has to do. Since the Deatheaters are getting ready to storm the castle, we need to make that very hard and very costly for them."

Neville glanced around at the students with him. "Dumbledore's Army!" he called out and punched his fist into the air. All the students did the same with an echoing shout.

Lynch was impressed with their enthusiasm but they were far too young to be involved in war.

"Neville, I applaud your courage, I really do, but this isn't OWLS or NEWTS," Lynch said. "There's going to be a war out there, people are going to be hurt, people are going to be killed. You're too young ..."

"Dumbledore's Army!" Neville shouted and the sound was echoed instantly. "You think we don't know that? You ever get Cruciatus used on you? I have. My parents were tortured by Bellatrix into madness. I'm going out there to fight. Lots of us were at the Battle of the Ministry. We know the risk and we know we might not come back but we're going."

Lynch saw the absolute conviction in the lad's eyes, looked around and saw the same look in the others in the room and knew he couldn't stop them, but he could lead them.

"Okay then," he said. "First, we need to contact the teachers and do what they tell us to do. They know the school better than any of us. If battle comes, don't hesitate because your enemy won't hesitate. If you have to kill,  
you do that. Understood?"

Several dozen sets of eyes gazed back at him without flinching. Maybe they did know what they were getting themselves into. "Right. Neville, let's find the teachers and join in this fight."

They were silent when they rushed out of the door that appeared in the stone wall, Neville using his hand to guide Lynch though a hallway,  
around corners and up stairs he hadn't set foot on in a lot of years. He took in the sights with a distant feeling of nostalgia as he ran until they met up with a knot of teachers.

Professor MacGonagall looked at Neville then at Lynch. "Well, looks like you brought help, Mr. Longbottom. Lynch, Robert Lynch isn't it? Very good at Transformation and a lot of detentions if I remember correctly. How many people did you bring?"

They talked for a few minutes to plan the basics then she told him,  
"Gather everyone in the Great Hall in five minutes." She looked at him standing in front of her and said, "Well? Get moving."

"Sorry," Lynch said with a nervous chuckle. "Lots of memories." He turned and passed the word to get everyone to the Great Hall.

MacGonagall had ordered underage students home when Voldemort's voice screeched through the castle telling them to hand over Potter, the Slytherins were ordered out and Lynch gazed at Potter himself. After a year of deception work, he'd built a, now obviously false, image of the boy.  
Slender, dark haired, glasses like the picture, but the look on his face said he had seen hard times and his eyes looked older than the seventeen years he'd lived. Yes, he was ready for whatever the future had in store for him.  
Lynch wondered if the lad truly understood how much the Wizarding world depended on him and him alone to defeat Voldemort. And he worried if the Potter he was looking at was strong enough to do what had to be done.

After they sent most of the underage students to the tunnel, he looked at his group. "We have thirty fighters. Team leaders take charge of your teams. Staunton, to the Astronomy tower, Getson to the front gate and fortify it." He gave his orders and headed his team to its assignment,  
augmented with half a dozen students. He knew the look of anxiety he saw on their faces, same for the students assigned to him, but they all looked determined in spite of the fear. He had good people with him.

As they spread out over the castle walls, he watched the statues come off their plinths to thud to the ground, heading for the still open gates to take up station just outside the walls, forming a mass of living stone in front of the castle entrance. Off to one side he saw several students scrambling around the long bridge, they were doing something but he couldn't see what it was. When they were done, they gathered close together at the castle end of the bridge, ready to defend their school and their lives.

Lynch looked over the walls to see a solid line of people coming out from the trees, more than he'd thought he'd see by a long ways. They were so outnumbered now he knew none of them stood a chance. But like before,  
delay and deception, sneak attacks, anything to impede and sew confusion.  
He turned to his group of fighters and students.

"We need to give them a hard time before they reach the castle walls.  
Anyone with ideas on how to make them wish to be somewhere else than challenging the smartest wizards in the world?"

A student stepped forward. "Sir. I think we can go to the Herbology greenhouses and find some nasty plants to toss over the walls."

Another student stepped up. "Sir, I smuggled in a hundred dung bombs from Weasley's shop. Would that help?"

Yet another called from the back of the group. "Uh, I sorta sneaked a bunch of Elixir of Living Death into my trunk. Could we use that?"

Lynch grinned. Students could always be counted on to know the tricks. "Right. Take someone with you and gather up flasks, fill 'em and we'll toss them over the walls. Who knows what caltrops are? Make as many as you can and throw them on the paths leading to the walls. That ought to cause some mayhem. Well? Get moving. Be back here in five minutes. Now go!"

The first wave crashed into the statues, plants tossed over the walls tangled around running feet or raised blisters on skin, bottles of Living Death were thrown but had little affect, though anyone close that breathed in the vapors went down. The caltrops had dozens on the ground yelling in pain and trying to pry them from their shoes and feet. Dung bombs were tossed before the edge of the battlements were lit up with curses from below. When they ran out of things to throw, he withdrew his team back to the castle and prepared for wand to wand fighting.

The fighting started when the enemy stormed the gates and broke through. Curses and jinxes flew in all directions, students and Order members both were felled but they fought harder as the battle raged and they saw their friends injured, sometimes dying right in front of them. One student he saw go down, the friend at her side went mad, green light flaring from his wand to strike a Deatheater and killing the man instantly. The student looked at what he'd done in shock then at his dead friend and his eyes lit in rage. An insane, inhuman scream came from his throat and woe to anyone in front of him as he let loose with his blazing wand.

The battle line crept close to the castle, broke through the doors and people were everywhere. Curses were thrown, people froze and fell over,  
others hurled through the air by the sheer power of the magic being wielded against them; cries and screams, some from pain, some from battle, rent the air and echoed through the corridors.

Booms shook the floor as giants battered at walls, spiders came through the holes and were beaten back by jets of white light from a dozen wands, fights raged around the halls and through rooms with bangs and screams bouncing off the walls. The noise became a blurring ache in Lynch's ears after more exposure than he could tolerate, yells of anger, rage, fear,  
screams of pain, the last cries of the dying rolled through everywhere.  
Flashes of light flew, bounced, gouged holes in walls, hit living flesh with sizzling thuds, a never ending roar of raw noise assaulted his sanity.

Voldemort's voice screeched through the castle once again, toned to mollify, the words seeming to be conciliatory at first, then a challenge for Harry to come out and surrender couched in terms Lynch knew would affect the young man more than any other threat could. Come out or see everyone else murdered. He hoped Potter could see through the lie. Even if he gave up they'd all become chattel, slaves, minions to be toyed with. No matter what Harry did, Lynch knew after fighting for hours he'd never give up, even if it meant a life of being an underground fighter he'd never give in. He helped carry bodies back to the Great Hall, one of them the student that offered Living Death Elixir. If he had tears left, he'd've shed them, but there was only the bitterness of death making his feet drag and a berserker rage inside to keep him going. Tears were for poets far removed from battle.

In the early hours before dawn, Voldemort himself strode up the path,  
the giant Hagrid carrying a body in his arms with tears streaming down his bearded face. The glasses gave the identity away. It was Harry. They'd lost.  
Now, most of them were going to die, the survivors may be wishing for that fast death very soon. Neville, the boy he'd met in the room, strode out and defied Voldemort to his face. It was the most foolish and the bravest thing he'd ever seen, ending with the sorting hat burning on his head, the rest of him lighting up in sympathy for the hat. Just then it was like everything in the world went haywire. Fighting broke out everywhere at once and Potter's body dropped from the giant's arms.

Lynch thought he'd seen everything, imagined and not, happen over the past year, but as he watched, Harry's body moved, stood and disappeared. He stared at the spot where he'd been and saw nothing,  
nothing but fighting raging around the castle once again. For a moment he thought he saw the Neville kid running with a sword but then someone was trying to kill him and he lost sight of him. He turned to bring up a shield charm and was hit with a painful curse to his left shoulder, struck out at his attacker and stood his ground, shielding, blocking, throwing curses and jinxes, this time fighting for his life in the crowded room. In the back of his mind he hoped when it happened, it happened fast, but he kept fighting.

Just when he thought he couldn't send out another curse he was so weak from hours of it, his injured shoulder screaming with pain, the center of the room erupted in light and the hall fell silent. Harry was talking, he was alive and talking to Voldemort. At first it seemed he was trying to calm the evil wizard down, but the words were carefully chosen, sounding compromising, but it struck him that Potter was goading Voldemort, pushing him into a rage he could see on the wizard's face and posture. Didn't Harry know how very dangerous that was? He kept poking words at him and Voldemort was winding up tight.

Harry was saying the Elder wand belonged to him now, that Voldemort was never its master. That was the last straw and Voldemort raised his hand. Both wands ignited, liquid fire bursting out of them to collide, Harry's shoving against Voldemort's until it hit the Elder Wand and the air was ripped apart by concussion and blinding light.

When he recovered from the shock he couldn't see what was happening, managed to stand on a chunk of castle wall and looked to the center of the room. Voldemort lay on the floor, Harry standing over him with two wands in his hands. It wasn't possible but his eyes saw the scene no matter how many times he blinked and rubbed his eyes. Harry had killed the most powerful, most evil wizard of modern times.

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	5. Chapter 5

DECEPTION By KnockturnSeller

While the Golden Trio were in the woods, other battles were going on around them. This is a look at some that fought to give support to the Chosen One.

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CHAPTER FIVE: EPILOG

Lynch helped once again to gather broken bodies for the Healers to care for, the ones that would never see life again were laid out on one side of the Great Hall. Students and family members sobbed quietly, too tired and numb to grieve properly in the early morning light shining through the windows and ragged holes in the castle walls.

"Lynch. Robert Lynch," he heard and turned to see Shacklebolt a few feet from him.

"Kingsley," he said in a tired, croaking voice. "Glad to see you survived."

Shacklebolt clapped him on the shoulder and Lynch buckled in half and nearly lost consciousness. "Sorry about that. Didn't know."

"Something about the burn marks confusing you?" Lynch asked through clenched teeth, eyes watering form the agony ripping though him.

"Ah, yes, once again, sorry," Kingsley said. "You okay otherwise?"

"Yeah," Lynch said as he struggled to get his legs working again. "Give me a few days sleep, a bottle of Ditanny and a few hot baths and I'll be right as rain."

Kingsley nodded and said, "Like we all could use, I'm sure. We have work to do."

Lynch looked up, sharp pain from his shoulder making him tremble.  
"I've always appreciated your sense of humor, but I have to say it's a touch hard to maintain my normal, cheery repartee at the present time."

"Buck it up, old man," Kingsley said. "We have to get to the Ministry and take over as soon as we can. People are going to be afraid and worried and we need to be there for them. If we hurry, we might even catch a few rats before they desert the ship of state. I need you, Robert, and I need you now."

Robert Lynch stood as straight as he could. "I'm yours to command sir,  
now and always."

"Good show," Kingsley said. "Apparate or floo?"

The two of them sauntered off to find an available fireplace when Kingsley said, "You know, we're going to have to chase them all down and we're going to need information. Ever think about a rewarding career as a spy master?"

END

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